Complicated
by purplejello1786
Summary: McGee and Ziva have started a promising relationship, but things soon get very complicated when Tony won't--or can't--stay out of their lives. McGiva mostly, some Tiva
1. Chapter 1

Title: Complicated

Author: purplejello1786

Rating: T

Spoilers: None

Pairings: McGiva mostly; some Tiva

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the characters. If I did, I would have vast amounts of money, would buy a small tract of land in the Antarctic Peninsula and could pet the penguins whenever I wanted.

Chapter One

Work, Monday morning, the usual. McGee was booting up his computer, listening to Tony and Ziva argue.

"Tony, no. No, and that is final. No more discussion."

"What are you talking about? We've been 'discussing' it since—" Tony pulled Ziva closer, but McGee could still hear. "Since we left my apartment," he said, quietly.

"Do you honestly think that no one here has noticed that we are sleeping together? There's no need to be so secretive about it." She looked at McGee. "You've noticed, haven't you? You must have; you're listening in on our conversation."

"No," McGee stuttered. "No, I wasn't, I—"

"Quit trying to distract me, Ziva," Tony said, cutting him off. "I still think you should at least think about it—"

"I _have_, Tony. I told you; I have. No. It's not going to happen."

"I have to admit I'm at a loss to know what you two could possibly be arguing about now that you've had sex," McGee said.

"None of your business, McGeek," Tony snapped. "Now, Ziva, c'mon; we need to talk." He tried to pull her away from her desk.

"_No!_" Her eyes flashed with the anger that all of them knew to be at the least frightening, at the worst fatal. "We are at work, I am here to do my job and I have made up my mind. Live with it." She sat down and turned on her computer, acting as though he wasn't there. Tony glared at her for a few minutes, then sulked back to his desk.

"You're going to regret this," he muttered.

"So you keep telling me," Ziva said. "But you're not going to convince me."

"Yeah, well, see if I have anything to do with it."

"Did I ask you to? Get to work before Gibbs shows up."

At that moment, Gibbs had, of course, shown up and asked what they were arguing about and if it was going to interfere with their work; they had of course denied it and hadn't said a word about it the rest of the day. But that, to McGee's knowledge had been the last day they had been 'together'; it seemed that they had broken up after that. They didn't come in with the same kind of drive-thru coffee anymore and when Ziva came down with a bug, Tony didn't catch it. As far as he could tell, they were completely over.

Still, he was a little wary about tonight.

Ziva had sounded kind of upset on the phone. McGee knew that Ziva's typical coping mechanism was that she didn't have one and just ignored the problem, hoping that it would go away. Problems that sat across the bullpen from you didn't go away, however, and he knew she probably still had some baggage a couple of months later. So he had agreed to go have dinner with her at a place not far from his apartment. Maybe he could cheer her up a little.

He was a little surprised when Ziva showed up at his door just as he was on his way out.

"Hi, Ziva," he said, looking at her strangely. "You ok?" She looked a little antsy.

"Can I come in?" she said.

"Aren't we about to go out to dinner?" She paced around his apartment for a minute.

"Ever had this inexplicable urge to shoot someone, McGee?" she asked him.

"Not many times, no," McGee replied. "Whoa; you didn't kill anyone, did you?"

"Not yet." She pressed her forehead into her hand. "It's just that—have you ever been shopping and those little scanners—you know—and the people in front of you are buying school supplies and have, from the looks of things, five thousand paper folders and they just keep beeping and beeping and—" She groaned. "I had to get out of there."

"Are you ok?" McGee asked.

"God, no. I don't think I should be around people today."

"Ok. Ok; do you want to be alone?"

"If I wanted to be alone, I would not have come here, McGee!" she said. Then she sighed. "I am sorry. It has been a very bad day."

"Sorry. I'm sorry. You, uh, want to hang out here for a little bit, maybe talk about it?"

"Thank you, McGee."

"Um, are you hungry? I can order something if you still want to eat."

Ziva sat down on his couch and thought for a minute and then smiled.

"Yes, I'm very hungry, actually."

"What's your favorite kind of pizza?"

"Spinach, and mushroom with jalapeños, pineapple and—" She stopped. "Too much?"

"No, no; my sister eats weird pizzas too. Was there anything else?"

"Um…well, you can't order it that way."

"I can get whatever you need." She looked a little embarrassed.

"Beets." McGee couldn't keep from looking surprised.

"Beets?"

"You asked!" Ziva said. "I can't help it if the eating habits in my country are different from here; if you Americans ate anything besides cheese and potato chips—"

"I know, I know. We're slobs," McGee said, trying to calm her down. "I'll get you the beets. You probably shouldn't go back to the store. You can hang out here; do whatever you want. Just—"

"Don't touch your typewriter or your papers. I know." She had calmed down and was now beaming at him. "I love you, McGee. Why can't more men be like you?" He smiled back at her and left.

"That was weird," he said to himself. He went to the store and got everything Ziva had asked for, along with a pizza crust. It would probably be easier to just make it themselves. He figured he would at least try it; his sister had made him try more weird food than he could count.

"I'm back," he called when he got in the door. He set the groceries down, put them away, but didn't see Ziva. "Ziva, you still here?"

"I'm still here, McGee." She definitely was. She had taken off her blazer; under it had been a turquoise camisole, the straps of which were hanging off onto her arms. Her hair was down, draped over her shoulders and she had a sultry look on her face that he had fantasized about before, but never actually seen. She walked up to him, letting her hips move so that a little bit of skin was exposed between her pants and her shirt when she took a step, and touched the buttons on his shirt. "Want to skip dinner?" she asked. "I appreciate you going to get what I wanted, but…there's something else I want right now." She took the shirt completely off, letting him see the bra underneath and, of course, a lot more of her skin.

McGee was sure he was dreaming. He stared at her, wondering what she was going to do next. She gave him a questioning look.

"Something wrong?"

"Um, I'm not sure," McGee said. "What is it exactly that you want?" Ziva gave him a look.

"Well, I'm slowly taking off my clothing and gazing at you lasciviously while touching your chest; I thought we could play a nice game of Scrabble."

"Ziva, no offense, but you playing Scrabble is a bit like Tony trying to hack into Playboy website to find out if he really knew that girl from the centerfold in high school. Not your thing." Ziva looked away for a moment, both of them remembering _that_ incident. Then she raised her eyebrows at him.

"Are you low on testosterone or something?" she asked. "Sex. I am talking about sex. Would you like to have sex with me, McGee?"

McGee had never been made this offer and so didn't know what to say. "Umm, well…" Ziva stood back.

"You're 'umming' me?" she asked. "Don't pretend you don't stare at my ass and didn't try to look up my skirt that time when we were at the construction site. C'mon, McGee, here's your chance—maybe your only chance—to sleep with me; I'd take it if I were you."

McGee wasn't listening; he was forcing himself to focus on what the formula for Pythagoras' theorem because he couldn't remember anything more complicated, or even, in fact, what a triangle was. Finally, thanks to a mental domino effect whereby thinking about triangles somehow led him to the Jurassic Period, he managed to stop thinking about what Ziva looked like naked.

"Ziva," he began. "You are one of the most attractive women that I have ever known…"

"One?" Ziva snapped. "I am _one_ of the most attractive women you have ever known? Do you only sleep with the ones at the top of the list? That would explain why you are so rarely with a girl."

"Wait, Ziva, that's not what I meant; I just—"

"If you don't want to sleep with me because you find me unattractive, there is no need to lie. Actually, I take that back; there is need to lie. You could have lied and told me I was _the_ most attractive woman you had ever met, that I had the body of a goddess, that in my arms you could be stabbed in the spine with an ice pick and still die happy, but no, you decided to tell a woman who came to you for a little comfort that she wasn't attractive enough for you. You know I expected this of Tony, but not of you. Thank you for nothing, McGee. Enjoy your beets." She said all this while replacing her clothing and putting her shoes on.

"Hold on!" McGee yelled at her, jumping in front of her at the door. Ziva gave him her squinting, threatening look.

"Don't tempt me, McGee," she said.

"What I was going to say that you are very, very attractive and you do have the body of a goddess, although really I think the ice pick thing is pushing it, and I would love to sleep with you. You would be the hottest woman I have ever hooked up with. But—" he said, as she started eyeing him again. "I don't really want to just 'hook up' with you. You're my co-worker. I don't think it would be good for our cases if I'm constantly thinking about you naked while we're at work. And it just—it really isn't my thing. I don't really like one-night-stands. I'm sorry." Ziva looked thoughtful.

"So what does it take to make you feel comfortable with sex?" she asked.

"Well, at least one date, preferably more," he said. "The potential for an actual relationship would be nice—what about Tony?"

"I think you would be adorable together, but I don't know if Tony could provide the kind of commitment and stability you need."

"No, I mean, would he get upset? Are you two officially broken up?"

"Oh, yes. Definitely. I don't know if we were ever even together. It really was just sex and afterward having to listen to him tell me which movie actress I sounded like in bed. Don't worry about Tony." She looked at him. "So you want a date?"

"Do _you_ want a date? You really want to have sex with me that badly?"

"No, it's not that. I mean--you know what I mean. You've been really nice to me tonight and I would like to spend time with you. I take it I ruined tonight for you?"

"Little too soon after I've seen you in your underwear."

"Ok. You still have all the ingredients for the pizza; I'll come over and make it for you tomorrow night. Does that work?"

"Sure," McGee said.

"Then tomorrow it is. I'll be looking forward to it. Bye, McGee." She slipped past him and left.

McGee went back to his typewriter, went back to a romantic scene he had been puzzling over and typed the hero saying 'I would take an ice pick to the spine for you.' Then he nodded.

"Perfect," he said.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Complicated

Author: purplejello1786

Rating: T

Spoilers: None

Parings: McGiva mostly, some Tiva

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the characters. If I did, I would have vast amounts of money, would buy a small tract of land in the Antarctic Peninsula and could pet the penguins whenever I wanted.

The next day, McGee wasn't sure how he should act around Ziva. All of a sudden they were going to be having a real date. If it _was_ a real date. He still wasn't sure what had happened the night before. There hadn't ever been anything between him and Ziva; they had never flirted or had the sexual tension that she and Tony had had. On occasion, she had even joined Tony in making fun of him. For her to be suddenly undressing in his apartment was a little disturbing. When he got to work, Ziva was on the phone and greeted him with a simple "Hi, McGee."

"Oh, uh, hi, Ziva," he said. "Are we, uh, still going to, uh, do that—you know, thing we were going to do, you know, tonight?"

"What?" She looked up at him, confused. _So it was a dream,_ McGee thought. Then she smiled at him. "Oh, right. Of course. I'll come by around six." Then she got back to her phone call. McGee stared for just a second until Tony came in and flicked at his ear.

"Stop bothering Ziva when she's working, Probie," he said. Then he walked around to where she was sitting, hung up the phone for her and grabbed her arm. "We have to talk."

"Tony, I was on hold for ten minutes; this cannot be that important." Tony didn't say anything else, just dragged her off.

McGee sat in terror for a few minutes, sure that Tony had found out about Ziva stripping in his apartment the night before and he was going to die horribly. But when Tony and Ziva came back, Tony didn't even glance at him. Neither did Ziva, but she was obviously angry and sat at her desk quietly stewing until Gibbs came in. Then McGee made himself forget about Ziva; Gibbs _would_ make him die horribly if he was distracted and couldn't work the case.

Later, he and Ziva were in the observation room watching Tony interrogate a witness.

"What was that about earlier?" he asked her.

"What was what about?"

"What Tony wanted to talk to you about. He's not—he's not mad about—"

"About what? About our date?" She chuckled. "No. He's just upset because, uh—well, you know Tony; he finds things to be angry about."

"Seriously, Ziva; I don't want to interfere with your relationship. Are you broken up or not?" She turned to look at him with a steely expression.

"We are completely over," she told him. "One hundred percent. He just feels he has to be a little—picky about some things. Nothing to do with you. Don't worry." She smiled again. "Forget about Tony. It'll just be you and me tonight."

McGee turned back to the interrogation with a growing fear bothering him. Did Ziva expect them to have sex that night? He had said he preferred more than one date before he had sex, and the thing was, now that Ziva seemed interested in him, he realized how much he liked her. He liked how funny she was when she was trying to be, and also the naïve vulnerability when she made a mistake and everyone laughed at her. He liked how serious she was about her job, how she attacked every problem like the future of the world was at stake and how she wasn't afraid to challenge even Gibbs if she thought they were doing it wrong. And aside from all that, if not the most attractive woman he had ever known, she was definitely top five. It wasn't that he didn't want to sleep with her. But this was just a little too surreal for him. Probably all that would happen tonight would be that they would talk like friends, eat weird pizza and Ziva would realize that she had just been feeling a little strange the night before and would come to her senses.

When Ziva showed up at his door that night, he fully expected that the evening would go that way.

"Have a better day?" he asked her.

"Well, yes," she said. "You saw; you were there for most of it." She smiled at him.

"I was just—you know, it's something you say."

"I know. Did I say something wrong?"

"No. No; you're fine." It was still strangely awkward. But at least she wasn't feeling the urge to take off random articles of clothing. "So, are you hungry?"

"Yes." They went into the kitchen and Ziva pulled out the ingredients for her pizza.

"You put cheese on it?" McGee asked, rummaging in his refrigerator.

"Yes. Are you ok with trying this?"

"I've tasted a lot of weird foods in my time. I always say I'll try anything once."

"Ok," she said, with a grin. Then, as she started rolling out her pizza dough, she looked more serious and started telling him how her mother had taught her to cook. McGee wasn't really listening; he was busy still looking for mozzarella when he realized that Ziva was almost in tears.

"She didn't even like pizza," she said, her voice squeaking. "But she made it because she knew Tali and I loved it. She was such a good person and I'll never be able to measure up to her. She would be ashamed of me if she could see me."

"No, she wouldn't; of course she wouldn't," McGee said. He put an arm around her and she pressed her face into his shoulder, still trying not to cry. He did his best to comfort her, even though this was even weirder than her trying to seduce him. "You're a very good person, Ziva." She looked up at him and wiped a tear off her nose.

"Thank you, McGee," she said. "I appreciate the compliment and I'm sorry." She pulled out of his arms. "Oh, God; I'm losing my mind."

"Are you ok?" McGee asked. "You have been acting kind of weird. I'm sorry, Ziva, but does this have anything to do with Tony?"

"Why?" Ziva snapped.

"Well, Ziva, let me be honest with you; everyone knew you had a thing for Tony and it must have been hard for it to not have worked between you. And—" He was trying to choose words carefully. "I know that it also must be difficult to be stuck with Tony and that can put you under a lot of stress. You think that could be why you've been acting a little different?"

Ziva sighed. "You may be right, McGee," she said. "It…might have something to do with Tony."

"So was this just to make him jealous or something? I can imagine his reaction if we had slept together last night."

"No!" Ziva said. "No; I would never do that to you. You don't think I would want to sleep with you just because I was attracted to you?" She eyed him again. "You don't give yourself enough credit."

"Listen, Ziva, if you're not over Tony, maybe we should change this from a date to just a friendly dinner. I don't want to cause any problems and really, I don't want to be the rebound guy."

"Oh, you wouldn't be the rebound guy," Ziva said. "The man who lives next door to me, the man I met at the dentist and the pizza delivery boy were the rebound guys." McGee didn't ask for details.

"Ok, so you want to talk about it a little more?" McGee asked. "Or should we go back to the pizza?

"Oh, right, the pizza." She went back into the kitchen and quickly and efficiently finished rolling out the dough, placing it on the pan and putting the toppings on. McGee had to move quickly slicing the jalapenos to keep up with her.

Then the pizza was in the oven and Ziva was looking around his apartment. McGee was cleaning up a little when he saw Ziva looking at something on his desk.

"Wait, wait. Ziva, uh, I'd appreciate if you didn't look at that," he said, rushing over to her and standing in front of the DVD she had only had the chance to glance at. She looked at him with her expression of surprise.

"McGee!" she said, looking pleased that she had found something to tease him about. "I would never have thought you were the type to watch porn!"

"It's not porn," McGee said, but he took the DVD off the desk. "It's just a little embarrassing." Ziva grinned and then, so fast that McGee barely saw it, snatched it from him. Then she gasped.

"_Star Wars_?" she said. "This is the new Star Wars movie!" She started to laugh; McGee turned bright red.

"It just came out on DVD," he said. "I bought it yesterday."

"Well, at least you don't have the action figures." McGee chose not to tell her about the box he kept under his bed.

"Please don't tell Tony," he said. "And I'm eating your bizarre pizza, so maybe you could keep the teasing to minimum."

"I'll do you one better than that," Ziva said. "Let's watch it." McGee just stared at her. "C'mon, it would be nice to watch a movie where Tony doesn't make a comment every five minutes about where else he saw the actors and what other movies it reminds him of. And I haven't seen it; we should watch it."

"You're serious? You _want_ to watch a geek movie?"

"I have seen the others. I'm not a fanatic, but I have seen them. We can watch it. I'm sure you've been wanting to. It is the least I can do after how I've been acting these past few days."

"Ok," McGee said, hesitantly. "And no mention of this to Tony?"

"None whatsoever."

So they sat in front of his TV, eating the pizza and watching. McGee hoped he wasn't as bad as Tony, but she hadn't seen Episode One or Two and so he had to tell her the back story. The pizza could have been worse, although McGee picked off the jalapeños and most of the beets. About halfway through, after he had stopped explaining everything, he looked over to ask her if she wanted another piece; she was sound asleep with her head on the armrest. McGee smiled. It had been a nice gesture from her, anyway.

After about thirty minutes, she woke up.

"What happened?" she murmured groggily. "Oh, McGee, I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It's ok, Ziva," he said.

"It's not that I don't like it; it's just that I was tired after today and—"

"Don't worry about it. You can go back to sleep if you want." She smiled sleepily at him, then leaned over and lay her head on his shoulder.

"Thanks, Tim," she said. McGee was surprised.

"You called me Tim," he said.

"Even if you don't want it to be a date, we shouldn't be on a last name basis. It's ok that I call you Tim, right?" she said.

"Of course," McGee said. "And…I never said I didn't want it to be a date." She seemed to be drifting off again and snuggled close to him. In spite of himself, McGee smiled and then put an arm around her. She slept on him until the end credits; McGee let the whole thing go by on the screen and even let it get back to the main menu before he woke her.

"Hey, Ziva," he said. "It's getting late. You should probably get back to your apartment."

"You're right," she said, sitting up. "How was the movie?"

"Good. I saw it three times in theaters."

"And the pizza?"

"Not bad without the jalapeños. And it was a little beet-heavy, but better than I was expecting."

"Glad you liked it." He had thought she was moving to stand up, but instead she leaned close to him and kissed him; it was the last thing he had expected, but it wasn't unwelcome. She was about to pull away when he kissed back and put his hands around her neck and held her there for a second. It felt strangely natural to be kissing her. He had never thought he could feel this relaxed when kissing a woman; normally he was in the middle of a mild panic that she might slap him. But Ziva seemed as comfortable with it as he did. Then she pulled away.

"See you tomorrow," was all she said, and then she left.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Complicated

Author: purplejello1786

Rating: T

Spoilers: None

Pairings: McGiva mostly; some Tiva

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the characters. If I did, I would have vast amounts of money, would buy a small tract of land in the Antarctic Peninsula and could pet the penguins whenever I wanted.

Chapter Three

Five days later

That kiss had sparked a real relationship between them; McGee had been able to feel it as soon as she left his apartment. He had gone over to her apartment almost every night since then; somehow they kept finding things to talk about and things they both enjoyed doing. Though she had never said anything, he now realized how lonely Ziva had been. The one night they hadn't planned to spend together, she had called and asked if she could come over. He was typing and had been about to say no, but she said that she wouldn't disturb him; she would just stay in the living room and read her book. They hadn't said a word the entire time, but it just felt good to have another person there. As surprising as finding out about Ziva's loneliness had been him finding out about his own. They got closer and closer with each night together and he felt a real bond forming between them. But they still hadn't had sex.

They did what they could to keep their relationship secret from anyone at work; 'anyone' mainly meaning Tony. Gibbs would know, of course, and they didn't really care if anyone else at NCIS knew. But they didn't really want Tony finding out, so they acted like just friends and Ziva reverted to calling him McGee at work. Still, sometimes it was hard to remember.

"Could you hand me that file from the cabinet on Ctn. Hansen, T—ony," Ziva had to say, that afternoon.

"Like you can't walk across the damn bullpen and get it yourself," Tony snapped. He had been in a bad mood for what seemed like the past month.

"Tony," McGee said. "If you don't want to be here, you could at least be nice." He opened the cabinet behind him, pulled out the file and took it to Ziva.

"Thanks, McGee," she said, giving him a quick sultry glance before she opened it.

"Anytime," he replied, with a secret smile. Then they had to get back to work. The case was going full force and they didn't even have time to eat, much less any time to themselves. The best they could manage was a secretive good-night kiss in the dark before they drove home.

They didn't get to spend any time together until the next day, when they finally caught the guy around 1500. With the case nicely wrapped up, Gibbs was happy to have them finish the paperwork and go home. The two of them didn't go home. They went for a walk and talked. They discussed what their lives had been before—Ziva being a little more vague than McGee—and she taught him some things about Israeli history and he taught her some things about decryption software and the types of viruses used to break it down. Ziva found that, with him explaining it to her, she actually understood to some degree.

"That's amazing, Tim," she said, when he finished his speech. "Ever think about being a teacher?"

"A little," McGee said. "But NCIS just kind of felt…righter." Ziva looked at him doubtfully.

"Is 'righter' a word?" she asked.

"It's more of a word than 'bastardier'." This had been part of an earlier discussion. "Why didn't you go to the CIA when you first got here?"

"After Ari, they would have slammed the door in my face," Ziva said. "And it's the same as with you; it just felt right somehow. I liked you all and I liked forensics and I thought it might be nice to have a change of pace from just shooting people."

"Speaking of which, you seem like you're in a much better mood today. You didn't once threaten to kill anyone."

"Well, the day's not over," Ziva said.

"Why don't we try for a record?" He put both hands around her waist, turned her to face him and kissed her. "Would you like to go back to my place?"

"That would be great," she said. "Weren't you supposed to be writing tonight, though?"

_Damn_, McGee thought.

"Yeah, actually I am," he said. "You could still come over," he added, hopefully.

"I think I will," Ziva said. "I might be able to steal you for a few minutes, yes?"

*******************************

At 2245 that night, McGee was still at his typewriter, trying to think what to write next.

"Need some inspiration?" Ziva was standing in the doorway, wearing a lavender negligee and holding a bowl in her hands. She picked up a strawberry from the bowl and nibbled on it as she walked toward him. Her hips swayed a little to the jazz music he was playing. A thousand fantasies flashed through McGee's head, but then he made himself turn back to his typewriter. Ziva was closer to a distraction, but he wasn't going to complain. She perched daintily on the edge of his desk, balancing with her feet on the armrest of his chair.

"Want one?" she asked, holding out the bowl.

"Sure," McGee said. Slowly, gazing at him with eyes that were more expressive than any words, she picked up a berry and held it to his mouth. Feeling a little awkward and not really knowing what to do (he had never had a beautiful woman in lingerie feeding him fruit), he opened his mouth and let her place it inside; her fingers lingered for a moment on his lips. She beamed at him as he ate it.

"Good strawberry," he said, not knowing what to say. Then he turned back to his typewriter and continued to type, albeit a great deal slower than he usually did.

"Would you like another?" He nodded. She brought her feet down from his chair and leaned forward. She held the strawberry up to his mouth and took a bite just as he did; their lips were a hairs width apart. She gave him a suggestive smile as she pulled away. She fed him a few more strawberries in this way. McGee got through maybe a couple of sentences.

Then, when he said yes, he would like another, she got up and leaned over his chair, then placed a berry between her teeth. She leaned close; McGee, somehow still having the ability to move, took a bite from the berry she had in her mouth. When they had both finished with their berries, she kissed him. It was not a sweet little peck; he could feel her tongue gliding along his teeth and the inside of his mouth. His hands left his typewriter and ran down her back.

"So...tonight's the night?" he said to her, when she paused for breath. She smiled at him with the same look she had given him a week ago in his kitchen.

"Can I have a minute to finish this paragraph?" In answer, she pressed her lips against his against his again, with even more fervor. As she turned her body, a strap fell from her shoulder.

"Ok, ok," McGee said. "I'll take a break." He moved his hand along her bare leg, up to the hem of her gown and started to pull it off of her. To his surprise, her hand stopped him. "You realize that this involves being naked, right?"

"We'll be in bed in a minute."

"It's not that big a deal. I just want to see you—you know, really see you." He had seen parts of her, but never her entire body naked. Her form looked so beautiful under purple satin; he wanted to see it uncovered.

"Wait," she said, then stood up, took his hand and led him to the bedroom. She kissed him again as they moved toward his bed and he lowered her onto it, starting to remove his own clothes. His light was still on. While lying down, Ziva pulled off the negligee and let him see her. He was in the middle of taking off his pants; he stopped and the pants, unbelted, fell on their own. Ziva giggled, both at his pants falling and at his expression. His mouth had fallen open.

"I thought you had seen women naked before, Tim," she said.

"Never you," he said. "I—I can't believe how beautiful you are." He loved the way the light rested gently on her body, and everything else; the soft, delicate curves, the smooth angles, the graceful way she lay, stretched out on her back. Pants still around his ankles, he sat down on the bed and touched her face. Then he ran his hand down her neck to the middle of her body, then out to the sides, putting both hands on her hips. Then he tickled her a little, making her laugh unexpectedly.

"Alright, enough of that," she said, reaching up and pulling him towards her. "Take your pants off."

*************************

McGee couldn't ever remember being happier than he was when he was with Ziva. It surprised both of them that it worked so well, but it did. Ziva still had her days of minor insanity when she wanted to kill the mailman because a corner of her electric bill was sticking out of the box and a Great Dane slobbered all over it. Luckily, McGee was there to keep her from being arrested for homicide. Work was going ok; they didn't even care that Tony was still being a bastard because they had each other. It had been three weeks since they had started going out; they were lying in bed still in their pajamas at 1336 on a Saturday because Ziva wasn't feeling well and McGee didn't feel like leaving her. She was on her side, dozing, lying on her elbow. She wasn't snoring, so McGee knew she wasn't asleep. He reached over to touch her; she sighed softly.

"You feeling any better?" he asked her.

"My head still hurts and I feel a little sick."

"You need some more Tylenol?"

"I'm alright." She rolled over on to her other side. McGee put an arm around her and settled down to rest. Then he felt it; something different. He held his hand on her abdomen to make sure he felt it. He ran his hand up and down to feel where it began and ended, but it was definitely…Ziva was looking at him. He looked at her, his face a mask of surprise, and removed his hand.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, I'm pregnant, 14 weeks now. So, don't panic; it's not your's." She rolled out of bed, steadied herself for a minute, then looked at him. "I'm sorry, Tim. I—I honestly didn't mean for this to happen. I'm really sorry." She made a face then ran into his bathroom. He could hear her throwing up.

"Thanks for everything, Tim. I had a great time." Now she was putting on her clothes and putting her things in her purse. "See you Monday." Then she was gone.

McGee lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Ziva was pregnant. What the hell? How did this happen? Why didn't she say anything? Then he thought of the mood swings, how tired she was a lot of the time, her coming onto him out of the blue that first night, the weird food that she threw up half the time…

"This explains a lot," he said to himself. But why had she left? He hadn't said anything; had he looked that shocked? Did she think he would be angry because she was pregnant with someone else's baby? _Was_ he? He thought about it. No, he wasn't. He was a little curious about who's baby it was (and he hoped to God it wasn't Tony's), but he wasn't _angry_. Upset, maybe, but right now he just wanted her to come back. They definitely needed to talk about it, but he didn't want her to leave. Not yet anyway.

He would go find her and they would talk. The past three weeks had been wonderful. Way too wonderful to let her go that easily. He got up and put his clothes on.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Complicated

Author: purplejello1786

Rating: T

Spoilers: None

Pairings: McGiva mostly; some Tiva

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the characters. If I did, I would have vast amounts of money, would buy a small tract of land in the Antarctic Peninsula and could pet the penguins whenever I wanted.

Chapter Four

Three months ago

"I'm pregnant." Tony had been looking at Ziva's breasts, well-accentuated by her shirt, and hadn't really been listening.

"What?" Ziva leaned very close to him and exaggerated the words.

"I'm—_pregnant_," she said. "It's yours. Thought I should tell you." Tony stared at her.

"What, you mean—you mean you thought you should tell me before you—you know, right?"

"Before I what?"

"Before you—I don't know what you call it in your country, but you're not going to keep it? You're going to, you know, get an abortion, right?" Ziva looked away.

"No," she finally said. "I'm going to keep it."

"_What_?"

"I'm going to have the baby."

"You can't have the baby."

"Are you going to stop me?"

"Well, I'm—I'm the father; I get a say in this decision, right?"

"No, not really. You don't have to have anything to do with it. I just wanted you to know."

"Well, why did you tell me at all?" Tony yelled at her. "How did this happen?"

"You obviously weren't paying attention in Biology."

"We used a condom!"

"They break, Tony. Things happen. It's not like I was trying to get pregnant; don't blame me for this."

"It's not my fault either!" Tony was still yelling. "I never wanted to get you pregnant. And we were using protection; as far as I'm concerned, I am not responsible for this!" He knew that what he was saying was ridiculous, but he was very angry. And scared. He had never gotten a girl pregnant before. He was scared enough to wet himself. Ziva was staring at him condescendingly like he was a little kid throwing a tantrum.

"Last time I checked, it took two people to make a baby. And I didn't exactly go to the sperm bank and do this to myself. Tony, you don't have to make a big deal out of this; I just told you that I don't expect anything from you. If you want, I won't even tell anyone—including the child—that you're the father. I just wanted to give you the option and if you don't want to, that's fine. I'll see you at work." She went for the door of his apartment.

"Wait, wait; Ziva, hold on." He rushed after her. "You're absolutely sure you want to keep the baby?"

"I have thought a lot about it and I do want to have the child."

"An abortion isn't that big of a deal, you know." She turned to glare at him.

"Ever had one, Tony?"

"Well…no, obviously. I take it you have?"

"You think Mossad is just going to give me a few months off from an undercover op to have a baby? Yes, I've had them before." She had that look on her face, where she pulled into herself to stuff the painful memories back into the mental closet where she kept them. When she got back, Tony had calmed down a little.

"I'm sorry; that must have been really hard for you," he said. "And this would be really hard too, but don't you think it's the best way to go, since you and I aren't serious and considering work and everything? And don't forget that I'm not Jewish; I don't think your family would like it if you had an illegitimate child with an American Gentile."

"Let me worry about my family," Ziva said. "You're not going to change my mind."

"But, Ziva—"

"You just told me you want no part in this, so stop trying to tell me what to do about it!" she snapped. "I'm going to work. Are you coming?"

That had begun the argument that McGee had listened in on a few months before. Ziva was adamant about keeping the baby. Tony continued to try to convince her that it would be better not to. No matter how many times Ziva reassured him that she wasn't going to ask him for anything, Tony still panicked every time she said she was going to have the baby. It was his baby; nothing was going to change that. It nagged at him like something that was watching him all the time; there was going to be a little person that he and Ziva had made running around. And it was his, but…not. Ziva hadn't told anyone so far, but when she did, she wasn't going to tell anyone who the father was, or so she said. But he would always know.

He was doing his best not to think about it, he really was. But he was stuck staring at Ziva on the other side of the bullpen, knowing that the baby was growing inside her. He came in every day with a hint of hope in his mind that she would tell him she'd had a miscarriage. And now she had some new guy. He didn't know who he was, but he could tell. Whoever he was, she was very happy with him. Happier than she ever had been with Tony. Would this guy end up being his child's 'father'? Not that it bothered him. Why should he care? The kid wouldn't really be his…but why did Ziva have to be so stubborn?

He called her apartment on the day that (unbeknownst to him) she had left McGee's apartment and had in fact just arrived at her own.

"Hey, Ziva," he said, not even waiting for her to answer. "Can I come over for a minute; I was cleaning up a little and I found some stuff you left over here. Can I bring it?" There was a pause.

"Sure, whatever." Ziva sounded a little upset. "It would be nice to talk to someone. I've had a hell of a day."

"Ok, whatever you want. I'll be there in a little while." He hung up and put her stuff in a plastic bag. The only thing that he was certain was Ziva's was a book; he also had a hair clip and a pair of lacy underwear that may or may not have been Ziva's. It didn't really matter. The main reason that he was going over there was that the last time he had, she had jumped him a few minutes after he came in the door. Apparently pregnancy made you really horny when you weren't homicidal or throwing up. He didn't have a date for that night and so hopefully he could be comforting to her after her bad day. Sick and twisted to be hoping to hook up with a pregnant woman? Maybe. But she was carrying his child, for God's sake; he couldn't only be her friend and coworker. It didn't feel right. Not that he was in love with her or anything. But he couldn't seem to forget her. He took the things and went out to his car.

***********************************

McGee wandered around for a little while, thinking. This was pretty big. If he decided to go through with this, it meant that he was basically committing to the baby that Ziva was carrying. Did he care about Ziva that much? Did he love her? How could you tell if you loved someone after only a few weeks? Could he take care of a baby that wasn't even his? He didn't know. He just wanted to be with Ziva. But this complicated things a little.

He was around the age where people got married and had kids. Granted, 'married' was rushing things a bit, but as far as kids went, maybe this was fate intervening. And he really liked Ziva. Maybe it was worth exploring.

He was going to go for it. He would go to her apartment, find her, and tell her that he wanted their relationship to continue, no matter what happened. She had made a commitment to her unborn child; at the least, he could support her. He had made his decision; he would go. And he wouldn't go empty-handed.

************************************

When he got to Ziva's apartment, he knocked on the door; there was no answer. He knocked again. Then Ziva answered the door, holding a glass of what looked like wine. The words he had been about to say left his head and all he could think of was, "You can't be drinking; you're pregnant."

"My ob-gyn says that I can have half a glass at a time," Ziva said. She didn't seem to want to look at him in the eyes. "Did you need something, Tim?"

"Well, I—" At that moment, Tony appeared behind Ziva.

"What are you doing here, Probie?"he asked. "Oh, I get it; you were upset about the breakup, called your little girlfriend here and now you're going to go cry and get a manicure together." He glanced at the flowers and the gift bag in McGee's hand. "Did I forget your birthday?" he asked Ziva

"No," Ziva said. "Why _are_ you here?" she asked McGee.

"I needed to talk to you." He glanced at Tony. "Why is he here? I mean, are you guys back together or something?"

"No. He came over to bring me some things and we were just talking."

"And drinking wine?"

"Yes, Probie; nothing that would interest you, so thanks for coming; the flowers are beautiful; we'll see you Monday." He tried to shut the door on McGee; Ziva stopped him.

"Come in, Tim," she said. "Tony, do you mind?"

"I'm fine," Tony said, leaning against the wall by the door. Ziva gave him a look. "Fine, fine." He left them alone.

"Are you alright, Tim?" Ziva asked.

"I was going to ask you," he said. "Are you ok? You seemed so upset when you left my place and I'm sorry I didn't say anything; I was just so—so surprised—"

"Now wait one damn minute here!" Tony said, jumping back into the room from where he had been listening in the hallway. "You were at his place? You told me you just broke up with—_McGee_ is your new guy?"

"Yes," Ziva said, but Tony wasn't listening, he was still off on a rant.

"The guy who made you feel like no one ever has before, who 'makes your heart sing', who is '_so_ much better of a lover than Tony' and 'made you feel like a tsunami was washing over your soul when you—'" Ziva grabbed him and slammed him against the wall.

"If you ever read my email again, I will kill you slowly in a way that would make the most cold-blooded killer wet himself," she said. McGee was trying not to smile and not doing a very good job of it. He would never have thought he was better in bed than Tony.

"You mean to tell me you slept with this miserable inhabitant of Geekdom?"

"Tony, go away," Ziva said. "What were you going to say, Tim?"

"Well," he said, trying to think of the best way to say what he wanted to. "I've been doing a lot of thinking and—" Ziva made the face again.

"Hold that thought," she said, in a strained voice, then ran in the bathroom. Tony and McGee watched each other suspiciously while waiting for her to return.

"She seriously thinks you're better than me in bed?" Tony said.

"You're the one who read her email."

"She must have just been feeling bitter towards me," Tony said. "Or she knew I would read her email. No woman in their right mind is going to—" He gave McGee the glare and squint. "Do you cry?"

"What?"

"It's every woman's fantasy; to have a man with enough estrogen in their bloodstream to cry during sex. I bet you cry every time; you just can't hold back the tears because the love you make together is just so beautiful…" Tony made a mock-crying face. McGee happened to be feeling particularly confident that day. He grabbed Tony and looked him in the face.

"If I was crying," he said. "No one would know because they wouldn't be able to hear it over the sound of Ziva _screaming._" Tony's face went back to serious and intrigued.

"She screams with you?" he asked.

"I'm back," Ziva said, coming out of the bathroom. "And I don't think I'm ever going to eat a Reuben sandwich ever again." She paused. "Forget I said that; I'm craving it again already. Tony, you haven't been harassing him, have you?"

"Have I been harassing you, Probie?" Tony asked.

"Well, you are breathing, Tony," McGee said. Tony pretended to look hurt.

"You can feel free to leave any time, Tony; Tim and I need to talk," Ziva said. Tony stayed stubbornly where he was.

"Isn't there some way to get him out of here?" McGee asked.

"We might as well get used to it," Ziva said. "He's the baby's father." It was McGee's turn to look surprised; he turned to stare at Tony, who smiled obnoxiously and waved.

"It's Tony's?" he said.

"Yes," Ziva replied. This changed his plans a little; it was one thing to take care of a baby, but Tony's baby? "What did you want to talk to me about?"_ Here it goes,_ McGee thought.

"I did some thinking," he said. "About what happened this afternoon. I didn't want you to just run off like that."

"Well, what did you expect me to do?" Ziva asked. "I can't expect you to stay with me when I'm carrying someone else's baby."

"What if I choose to?" Ziva looked amazed. And touched. "These have been some of the most wonderful weeks of my life. I really care about you and I don't think I should let that go just because you happen to be pregnant." He handed her the flowers. "They made me think of you," he said. "And I thought you could use this." He handed her the gift bag and she opened it. Inside was a book with pastel drawings on it; it was for recording things during pregnancy and after. There was space to record the first ultrasound and the first time the baby moved. And on a page marked with that day's date, McGee had written 'Told Tim I was pregnant.'

"Where did you get this?" she asked.

"Hallmark store," McGee said. "I went—I mean, I know this girl who works there and she told me about the book and suggested it; it's not like I go into Hallmark stores on a regular basis—" Ziva wasn't really listening; she looked very embarrassed.

"Tim, I—I'm so sorry," she said. "I don't deserve this. Honestly, I thought that when you found out that I was pregnant that you wouldn't want to still have a relationship with me. I didn't mean to hurt you and I'm very, very sorry." She looked him very seriously in the eyes. "Are you sure?"

"As much as I can be," he said. "And I can see how you would make that assumption; if it had been any other girl I would have just let her go. But you—you're special." Tony, apparently thinking that he had been ignored long enough, started to clap.

"Beautiful, just beautiful," he said, pretending to cry. "So…you're going to be the daddy, huh?" He clapped McGee on the shoulder. "Congratulations. Seems everything's worked out." He looked at Ziva. "Found a nice sensitive man who cries during sex to be the father of your child. Which is fine; I'm just glad that there will be a father figure in the little guy's life and it doesn't have to be me. Well done, Ziva. Have fun with the make-up sex; I will see you both on Monday." He left Ziva's apartment. She looked at McGee.

"You don't really have to be the 'father'," Ziva said. "Tony just—he doesn't want any part of this. He didn't even want me to have the child."

"Maybe he's right," McGee said. Ziva stared at him. "Not about not keeping the baby. I mean, maybe this is working out just the way it should."

"Thank you, Tim; this means so much. I can't believe you would do this and again I'm so—" He kissed her.

"I know," he said. "It's ok. Just stay with me this time, alright?" She beamed at him.

"You don't really cry when we have sex, do you?"


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Complicated

Author: purplejello1786

Rating: T

Spoilers: None

Pairings: McGiva mostly; some Tiva

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the characters. If I did, I would have vast amounts of money, would buy a small tract of land in the Antarctic Peninsula and could pet the penguins whenever I wanted.

Chapter Five

Being Senior Field Agent, Tony got to go to Pearl Harbor for a conference on detecting undercover terrorists. It lasted a week and a half, counting travel time and there was plenty of time between the different seminars for strolling the beaches with beautiful young women. But Tony felt that he just didn't have the drive. He stayed in his room, watching sports and old movies on TV and told the other agents he knew that it was just jet lag. The closest he came to the beach was the collection of tiny umbrellas from the brightly colored drinks he ordered from room service.

He didn't even bother to try and explain it to himself why he wasn't out hooking up with or at least staring at gorgeous women in bikinis. Deep down he knew what it was. It just wasn't part of the DiNozzo vocabulary.

When he got back, the first sight he was greeted with was Ziva and McGee. McGee was sitting at his computer and Ziva was seated in his lap; each had in one earbud of McGee's headphones and were laughing hysterically at whatever it was they were watching on YouTube. To anyone who was looking, Ziva was beginning to look pregnant. Tony threw his stuff down louder than was necessary; neither turned around. He cleared his throat a couple of times and still got nothing. Finally, he walked over and plucked the earbud out of Ziva's ear.

"I see in my absence we've made public our relationship with Timmy here," he said.

"What's the point of keeping it secret?" McGee said. "Gibbs is going to know anyway and since you found out—"

"Did I speak or, in fact, _look _at you, McGee?" Tony said.

"There goes my theory," Ziva said.

"Huh?"

"My idea was that your recent bad mood was caused by testosterone build-up from a—what is it you call them? Dry spell? Obviously I was wrong because you just spent a week on a tropical island with lots of half-naked women. Must be something else."

"Did you even go outside, Tony?" McGee asked. "You don't look any tanner."

"Maybe I thought it was nice to just relax and watch a few games on TV," Tony said.

"Tony, the only time you forget about TV is when there is a sexual mark in the area and there must have been lots of them in Hawaii. You're not having—" She gave him a sly smile and glanced at his personal region. "Difficulties, are you?"

"You are getting about to that age," McGee said.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Tony," Ziva said. "Happens to lots of men."

"It's the same principle as wrinkles, Tony. The reason it got tired is that you've gotten a lot of mileage out of it. You know, Agent Turner over there—the big guy in his fifties—has the same problem; I heard him on the phone with his doctor about it. I bet he could hook you up with something."

"Hey, there are no 'difficulties' here!" Tony yelled. This was all wrong. They were teasing _him_. McGee was, in a calm and relaxed manner, joining Ziva in insinuating that he had erectile dysfunction. That wasn't supposed to happen. "You, of all people, ought to know that, Ziva!"

"McGee!" Gibbs yelled, coming around the corner. "Since when does YouTube count as work?" Tony ran over and positioned his palm over McGee's head.

"Can I do the honors, boss?"

"Go sit down, DiNozzo," Gibbs said. "I need to talk to the two of you. Now!" Tony smiled smugly; McGee and Ziva went to Gibbs' desk where he was standing.

"I got an email this morning—"

"You checked your email, Boss?" McGee said, looking surprised. Gibbs just gave him the look.

"It was from the Director, letting me know that she had approved your request for _maternity leave_, Ziva." Ziva blushed and smiled sheepishly. "Why am I the last to know about this?"

"Well, I was going to tell you—" He slapped them both on the head.

"What was that for?" McGee asked.

"For violating Rule number 12. Now, thanks to you two, I have to pull a good agent out of the field." Ziva and McGee looked at each other; McGee squirmed uncomfortably. Gibbs thought that _he _was the father? Ziva snuck a glance behind her; Tony was playing with his phone, listening, obviously, but not saying a word.

"Sorry, Gibbs," they both finally said.

"Be more careful next time," he said. "Now, that being said, congratulations to you both."

"What about Rule number 12, Boss?" McGee asked.

"Well, you're going to be a daddy, McGee; you think it would be right to deprive a child of its father because of one of my rules?" McGee was afraid to answer. "It's ok, McGee. Just keep it out of the office. That means watch YouTube videos on your own time."

"Ok, Boss." They were both about to leave; Gibbs held Ziva back.

"You know I'm going to have to take you out of the field."

"Yes," Ziva said. "I was hoping it wouldn't be for a couple more months though."

"How about this?" Gibbs said. "For now, you can still work scenes and interrogations, but I don't want you with us when we go to apprehend anyone and I don't want you involved in any chases. _And_ I want your weapon."

"Pregnancy doesn't affect a person's ability to aim a gun."

"But it sure makes it worse if you make a mistake."

"Gibbs, give me a few more weeks. You know I know how to handle a gun." Gibbs sighed.

"A few more weeks," he said. "Until you start showing. I don't want it being known that I gave a pregnant woman a weapon or I could be charged with public endangerment." Ziva smiled.

"Thanks, Gibbs."

"That means you two are going to have to work even harder when we make an arrest," he said to Tony and McGee, both of whom were listening. "You make sure you can run down those guys just as well as Ziva can."

"Of course, Boss. Although you know you don't have to worry about me. McGee on the other hand; he looks like he's been doing a little sympathetic pregnancy eating. Might want to hit the track a little harder, Probie." Gibbs went over and smacked him on the head.

"A week in Hawaii and you're still acting like an ass?" he said. "Is there a problem I need to know about, DiNozzo?"

"No, Boss," Tony said.

"Then everyone grab your gear; someone found a half-dead Navy ensign in their backyard not far from Norfolk. He's at Bethesda right now. I'm going to go talk to him; the three of you are going to go check out the scene. Here's the address; call me when you're finished." He shooed them out of the bullpen.

**********************

"Why didn't you say anything?" Ziva demanded, in the process of putting up her hair as they walked out to the truck.

"Say anything about what?" Tony asked.

"We know you were listening when Gibbs was talking to us," McGee said. "He congratulated _me_ on being the father. Aren't you going to tell him that it's yours?"

"Well, why didn't you do it? You had just as much opportunity as me."

"The way you've been acting, I wasn't sure if you wanted me to say anything," Ziva said. "But I never honestly expected you to let McGee take the credit for impregnating me. Isn't it supposed to be some kind of sign of virility when a man gets a woman pregnant?"

"Maybe where you come from, Ziva. Here, it just means he was an idiot who either didn't know how to use birth control or let the woman fool him into thinking that she was taking care of it."

"Or, like in our case, things just happen. It doesn't mean we are idiots." She finished braiding her hair and stuck it under her cap as they climbed into the truck. "I wanted to ask you since I first told you; aren't you the least bit pleased or excited about this? That you will have a son or a daughter?"

"Why should I be?" Tony settled himself in the driver's seat.

"I don't know why I expected you to understand." They started driving towards Norfolk.

When they got to the scene and started the investigation, Ziva took pictures as ordered, but was visibly disgruntled. While Tony was interviewing the housewife who had called 911, McGee came over to her and put an arm around her shoulder.

"You ok?" he asked. "I know. He's being a jerk. I don't get it either."

"Do you think you would be able to ignore the fact that you made another person, Tim?"

"God, no," McGee said. "How could I?"

"I'm glad," Ziva said. She smiled at him. "You can't even ignore the fact that Tony made another person."

"With you. The little person is part of you. So I can't ignore him." He gave her a very quick and discreet kiss.

"You sure you're ok with everyone thinking that you're the father?"

"Yeah," McGee said, a little surprised that he believed his own words. "I really am."

"You're amazing," Ziva whispered. Then they both got back to work before Tony noticed.

**********************************

It was a long day and Tony hated every minute of it. That was unusual for him. He had to admit it even to himself; he was depressed. And angry. That night he went out to a club, drank way too much and ended up being dragged away by his friends from a woman that he was coming on to with slurring words.

"And she says he's better than I am," he murmured, once he was stuffed into a car. "Why should I be happy? He'll be a better father—hell, there are jellyfish that would make a better father than me…" Then he dozed off. He didn't remember it and his buddies never told him. One of them 'borrowed' his NCIS ID and used it to score with one of the girls he had met and the rest of them decided it would be funny to remove most of his clothes and leave him in front of a department store in an obscene position with the blowup gorilla in a bikini that the store used for advertising. By the time Tony woke up, it was 1034, the cops were standing over him with an empty bucket that had previously contained ice cold water, and the store manager was yelling at him demanding that he be arrested.

On the positive side, his ID had been left and they knew he was an NCIS agent. On the negative side, his ID had been left and they knew he was an NCIS agent; this obliged them to call his superiors. Tony had never been more humiliated than when Gibbs came to pick him up. He threw him a shirt and sweatpants, which Tony hastily put on, and nodded to the front seat of the car. Tony got in and braced himself; he knew he was in for the headslap of a lifetime. Which he got.

Gibbs didn't say a word on the way back to the Naval Yard. Luckily, Tony hadn't been arrested for indecent exposure when it became obvious by his hangover that he hadn't done it on purpose. However, he knew it was going in his record.

"I'm sorry, Boss," he said, when they arrived. "That was dumb of me."

"DiNozzo, the only reason I am not commenting is that there are no words for how dumb that was."

"I know, Boss."

"Keep pulling this crap and you won't be calling me 'Boss' much longer."

"Got it, Boss."

When he got into the squad room, he fully expected to be ragged on, as he was sure that everyone knew what had happened. No one said a word. Ziva just smiled and said good morning and McGee nodded to him over his computer. He didn't hear anything all day—until he got to Abby's lab, that is.

"Welcome, Mr. Goodall," she said, when he appeared to find out what the substance all over the ensign's clothes was (It was a mixture of cherry snowcone syrup and chlorinated pool water). "Been getting friendly with the rest of the primate family, huh? Couldn't find a _homo sapien_ who would hook up with you last night?"

"Finally!" Tony said, and wrapped his arms around Abby. "Thank you, Abby; this means a lot."

"What does?"

"You're making fun of me for this morning! No one has all day! If you do something stupid and no one gives you crap about it, that means they think you're so pathetic that you must be too sensitive to handle it."

"Is that why you make fun of Tim all the time? Because you respect him?"

"McGee is a special case," Tony said. "And not one relevant to this conversation." Abby grinned.

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy in your voice?" she asked.

"Why would there be?"

"Him and Ziva. I know the two of you got it on at one point, but since McGee put the bun in the oven, I think he's there to stay. I can see how you might be a little upset about that—"

"I am not!" Tony said, asking himself the same question in his head. _Was_ he jealous?

"Whatever you say," Abby said, in a tone that said 'I think you're full of it.' They talked a little more and then Tony left, feeling confused. Surely he wasn't jealous. The relationship between him and Ziva hadn't gone all that well and had been more of a physical one. Then a little fantasy drifted across his mind, in 50's style black-and-white, of him coming home from work and loosening his tie while Ziva came in carrying the baby and gave him a smile and a kiss on the cheek and asked how his day was, the three of them living in a cute little house with a yard and a garden and 'The DiNozzos' painted on the mailbox. He had to laugh; the only way Ziva would do that was if she were on drugs or something. But he just couldn't seem to shake the idea. Him, Ziva, the baby, altogether. One happy little family.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Complicated

Author: purplejello1786

Rating: T

Spoilers: None

Pairings: McGiva mostly; some Tiva

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the characters. If I did, I would have vast amounts of money, would buy a small tract of land in the Antarctic Peninsula and could pet the penguins whenever I wanted.

Chapter Six

It was almost two months later. Ziva had started wearing maternity clothes and Gibbs had finally gotten her to give up her gun. He knew she still carried her knife, though. They were working a case involving about $100,000 worth of cocaine and a human hand being found on a Navy cruiser docked at Norfolk and they were searching the ship for any other body parts and questioning the crew. Gibbs walked into the office where Tony was slouched in a chair playing with his phone again, McGee was looking through crew member files and a Petty Officer was standing at attention against the wall.

"How are you guys doing?" he asked.

"Three crew members have previous suspected drug activity and we had one ensign who was a suspect in a murder case in '01, never tried. We also have four crew members unaccounted for; I called Ducky and based on the tattoo on the wrist, he thinks it was an Ensign David Harris," Tony said.

"Good news," McGee said, getting off the phone. "Another ship coming in noticed human remains in the water; it sounds like the remains of our sailor. They're pulling it out of the water now and I'm about to call Ducky."

"McGee and I will go over there," Gibbs said. "Tony, you and—where's Ziva?" The petty officer's left cheek twitched a little.

"Petty Officer Martin, tell Special Agent Gibbs the very important lesson we learned today," Tony said.

"Sir! When a pregnant NCIS agent asks where the women's restroom is, one is to direct her to its location without making any comments as to the frequency of her visiting it, sir!"

"And what else, Petty Officer?"

"The word 'hippopotamus' should never be mentioned even when one believes the agent in question is out of hearing range, sir!"

"Thank you, Petty Officer Martin."

"I'm back," Ziva said, entering the room. "Hi, Gibbs."

"Did you find everything to your liking, ma'am?" Petty Officer Martin asked.

Ziva's look could have been something off the Exorcist. McGee jumped up and quickly came between her and the Petty Officer.

"Ziva, calm down; it's ok. Let's not cause any more trouble alright?" The Petty Officer looked actually afraid.

"You think that just because I'm pregnant I'm some old hag who can't disembowel you with one stroke of her knife?"

"N-no, ma'am."

"Stop calling her ma'am," McGee whispered over his shoulder.

"No, Officer David. I very much believe that you could still injure me in any way you see fit."

"Ziva," Gibbs said, although he and Tony were both kind of trying not to laugh. "That's enough." Ziva gave the Petty Officer one more look from hell.

"In Africa, hippopotamuses kill more people than crocodiles," she said. "Remember that." Petty Officer Martin nodded and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"As I was saying," Gibbs continued. "Ziva, you and Tony will stay here and keep questioning the crew. McGee and I will head out and meet Ducky to look at the rest of the remains." Tony and Ziva nodded. As he was leaving, McGee smiled at Ziva and then looked down at her belly and waved. Ziva giggled.

"McGee's really getting into this daddy stuff, huh," Tony said.

"He is," Ziva said. "He's been reading the drafts of his new book to him every night." They had moved into an apartment together a few weeks before.

"So you really think it'll be a boy? You keep saying 'him'." Ziva shrugged.

"I don't know. Seems right, I guess."

"I'm just saying that if it's a girl and she's anything like you, she'll keep you in labor for a week just to get back at you." Ziva chuckled.

"Speaking of which," she said. "Are you coming tomorrow?"

"To what?" He knew damn well to what.

"The ultrasound. I told you about this last week, remember?"

"Yeah, and I'm not sure why. I don't care if it's a girl or a boy. You might not even be able to tell right now."

"But if we can, don't you want to know if you're having a son or a daughter?"

"It doesn't make any difference to me." He turned to look at her. "Listen, Ziva, we talked about this. If McGee is happy to sign up to be his dad, then that's fine with me. If you remember, I was against his existence from the start." Ziva grinned at him. "Now what?"

"You said 'his'," she said.

"Because you did! As far as I'm concerned, this is not my baby! Stop trying to drag me into this!" He hadn't meant to be talking so loud. Ziva looked surprised. "All I mean is," he said, lowering his voice a little. "A kid only needs one father and McGee seems to be doing pretty well. Why even bother with me?" Ziva lowered her eyes to the side.

"Tim might not be able to go," she said. "He has to recertify with his Sig and he might not be able to reschedule the appointment. And I don't want to go alone. Please, Tony?" She actually looked pretty sincere in her vulnerability and Tony found himself affected by it.

"I guess if there's not any good games on," he said.

"Thank you," Ziva said, with a smile. "Petty Officer Martin?" He jumped when she spoke. "It's alright, Petty Officer; I just was going to ask you to bring in the next crew member on the list."

"Yes, Officer David." He looked incredibly relieved to leave the room.

"I do not think you're going to regret this," Ziva said. "Who's next?"

*************************************

The next day, Tony and Ziva went together to the obstetrics clinic at Georgetown. Amazingly, Gibbs had given them the hour off without a lot of crap. Tony was driving them over there. When they got into the car, he sniffed the air and asked, "You guys take bubble baths together?"

"What?" Ziva asked.

"Well, we both know that McGeek likes a nice bubble bath every now and then. And you guys both smell like Cherry Blossom Heaven today; I assume there is some snuggling amongst the bubbles."

"Yes. It's nice," Ziva said. "Our new apartment has this nice big tub in it—"

"A-hah!" Tony yelled, making Ziva jump. "A nice big tub that you wouldn't be able to afford without our little McWriter's royalty checks. Admit it; you like being with someone with money!"

"Tony," Ziva said. "I once spent an entire six months of my life sleeping on the dirt floor of a cave in the Western Caucus Mountains. Before Tim and I moved in together, I was coping quite well with having only a regular-sized tub and a normal full-sized bed. I am not so mercenary that I would start a relationship with a man just because he has more money than I do."

"But I bet it is nice, isn't it?"Tony continued. "All the comforts of home without ever having to ask your Dad for money. I just wonder if, when the kid got out of your belly he turned out to be a bad father, would you stay with him?" Ziva looked shocked. "For the kid's sake, I mean. He'd get sent to all the best schools, get to do anything activities he wanted and always have the best and newest toys; he might get treated like crap at home, but he'd have all the best."

"Tony, what has gotten into you?" Ziva said, raising her voice. "You really think Tim would be like that? And do you think I would do that to my child?"

"Just want to know what you're made of," Tony said. "I mean, you've had money your whole life…"

"So have you," Ziva snapped back. "Could you do that to your child?"

"Not an issue; I don't have one." Ziva stared at him in confusion for another minute; he continued staring at the road.

"This isn't about the baby," she said. "This is about me being with Tim. Tony, if it upsets you, then just say so."

"What is there to be upset about?" Tony said. "It didn't work between us. All we did together was have sex and, by some cruel twist of fate, make a baby. It would have been better if we were never together in the first place." Ziva looked like she was trying very hard to keep her temper under control.

"When the image of the baby comes onto the screen," she said. "And you see it, and you know that it's yours, then you tell me it would be better if we had never been together."

****************************

She was right. She was completely right. Tony was looking at the fuzzy ultrasound picture on the screen of something that, with some imagination, looked like a human being. No emotion appeared on his face. Inside his head was something else entirely. There was actually someone in there. It wasn't just a blob that had landed on Ziva's belly. It was a person. His son.

The ultrasound technician had been wary of telling them anything, but when the doctor came in, she had readily said that it was a boy. There was little doubt about it. Ziva had squeezed his hand and whispered that she had been right.

"Yep," was all Tony had said. While Ziva was staring at the screen, he looked from the picture to her belly and back again, trying to grasp that what was on the screen was inside her. And would be outside her in a few more months. This was the kid that McGee was waving at and reading his books to. That this was McGee's son…looking at that screen, Tony couldn't make himself believe it.

_This is all wrong_, he thought. It should be either him or McGee; it shouldn't be both. McGee was the 'father', so it should be his kid. But it wasn't. It was Tony's, no matter how hard he made himself try to forget it.

He looked at Ziva. She looked beautiful, beaming at the screen. She seemed so happy. Tony felt like he was in one of those movies where the main character was dead or something and watching someone else live his life. The fantasy he had had while talking to Abby a couple of months ago flickered across his mind again. He knew that he didn't want just the half. He wanted both of them, or neither. A kid should have a happy little family like that.

**************************************

A week later, McGee was sitting in the living room reading when Ziva came in, slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, looking shocked. He jumped to his feet.

"Are you ok?" he asked. "What happened?" Ziva opened her mouth and tried to say something, but couldn't seem to. Finally she brushed past him, went to their bedroom and closed the door. McGee followed her.

"Ziva, what's wrong?" he asked her. "Is the baby ok? Did something happen?"

"The baby's fine," Ziva said. "I just—I just got back from Tony's place. He asked me to come over because there was something he needed to talk to me about."

"Ok; let me in and tell me what happened," McGee said. Ziva opened the door, still looking pale.

"He—he asked me to marry him, Tim," she said. McGee was more shocked by this than when he had found out she was pregnant. And a lot angrier.

"To _marry_ him?" he repeated. "Tony—asked you to marry him?"

"Yes."

"What did you say?"

"No, of course!" Ziva said. "You think I would have said yes?"

"Hard to say, Ziva," McGee said. "I mean, when you one-sidedly decided that we were over, he was the first person you ran to. You think he might have gotten the wrong idea?" Ziva stared at him in confusion. "Oh, come on, Ziva; we both know what you two would have been doing if I hadn't shown up; don't pretend you wouldn't have." The feelings welling up inside him were starting to scare him. "And if you thought that was ok, how am I supposed to know that you haven't been over there between then and now? Maybe it's hard for one person to be enough for you." Ziva was getting angry too.

"How can you say that?" she said. "I didn't even do anything."

"You came on to me that first night when there was nothing between us. You expect me to believe that similar things haven't happened with Tony, since there _is_ something between you two?"

"I was upset and hormonal then."

"And you've been upset and hormonal on a daily basis since then!" McGee snapped back. "I just—Ziva, I can't believe that he would ask you something like this when you haven't been encouraging him!"

"I never did _anything!_" Ziva yelled. "You know how weird Tony's been acting. This is just another one of those things he's doing just to try to cope with this. You can't really believe that I am still sleeping with him!"

"He told me that you guys talked in the car on the way to the ultrasound," McGee said. "Said you seemed really happy about our apartment and all the nice things in it—"

"Don't you dare, Tim!" Ziva said. "You know that I am not that kind of person."

"Do I, Ziva, because I thought I knew that you weren't the kind of person who would cheat on someone either and you did that!"

"I thought—"

"You _thought_. You never asked me; you just assumed. Made your own decision about it. How am I supposed to know that your decision about our relationship is that we're only together because the money is nice and the kid would have a better future with me? How do I know you're not just playing me?" He tried to stop himself; Ziva was looking more and more upset and angry with every word he said. "I love that child and I thought I loved you. But maybe you don't need me. I mean, since you're keeping Tony around as a back-up." He just now realized that he was throwing things into a suitcase. "I'll be leaving now, so feel free to go over to Tony's; I'm sure he'd like that, since he obviously thinks the three of you would make a good family. Goodbye, Ziva!"

It wasn't so much the angry words in Hebrew, but the sound of something smashing against that wall, both of which he heard just as he closed the door that made him think that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to leave Ziva alone in an apartment that contained a lot of his things. Oh, well; he had just sent the draft of his novel to his publisher and he could always get a new typewriter. He was way too angry to go back inside. He hadn't realized that he was still so angry about Ziva almost-sleeping with Tony. But if he was asking her to _marry_ him, there had to be something going on that he didn't know about. It wasn't until he was in a hotel room, staring at the ceiling that he started to think about what he had just done and to feel sorry for it.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Complicated

Author: purplejello1786

Rating: T

Spoilers: None

Pairings: McGiva mostly; some Tiva

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the characters. If I did, I would have vast amounts of money, would buy a small tract of land in the Antarctic Peninsula and could pet the penguins whenever I wanted

Chapter Seven

Two hours before

Tony wasn't nearly as crazy as Ziva obviously thought he was. It took her awhile to respond.

"Tony," she finally said. "You did not just ask me to marry you."

"Yeah, I did," Tony said. "What do you think 'Will you marry me' means?"

"You've completely lost your mind, Tony! No, I will not marry you, if I even have to answer that question. Why would you ask me something like that?"

"Because I want to do what's right for the kid," Tony said. "You're always pushing me to participate in this process. This is me, fully participating."

"I only wanted you to try and accept the fact that the baby is, biologically speaking, yours and I know that when I first told you that I was pregnant I said I would, but I really don't want to be lying to our son about who his father is," Ziva said. "What on earth made you think that I would want to marry you?"

"Nothing," Tony said. "I didn't really think you would say yes. I just wanted to do what was right."

"And somewhere in your twisted mind, we're supposed to get married even though I'm very happy with Tim because we are having a child together?" She shook her head. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, but no. I'm leaving now before you manage to come up with something even crazier." She left.

************************************

Ziva did actually end up going to Tony's apartment after McGee left. As soon as he opened the door, she slapped him. Hard.

"What the hell, Ziva!" Tony said, from where he was, on the floor. She remained in the doorway.

"I hope you are happy!" she yelled at him. "Maybe this was even part of your plan from the start; I don't know. But now maybe you should return to your original attitude and stay out of this baby's life and mine!"

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Thanks to you, Tim now believes that I am cheating on him. And I can understand how he would."

"You told him that I asked you to marry me?"

"Of course I told him! Not telling him would only make it worse!"

"Hey, don't pretend like you're completely innocent in this. As I recall, when I came over that time, I subtly but clearly made my intentions known and you didn't have a problem with it, and you two weren't even really broken up."

"I know," Ziva said. "And I have told him that I am sorry, many times. Apparently he never really forgave me."

"So your nice little relationship isn't so nice and happy after all."

"So you did just want to break us up. Tony, get over me; we are never going to happen again."

"I never said I wanted it to!" Tony yelled, pulling himself off the floor.

"Then why ask me to marry you?"

"Because, this—it's all wrong, Ziva; don't you feel it? It shouldn't be this way! We shouldn't have made a baby when we're not even together!"

"Tony, I keep telling you; these things happen."

"It shouldn't happen this way!" Tony said. "It should be you and me, together, in love. And then we have a baby. We should be a family, Ziva! We shouldn't be two people who just happen to have the necessary parts to make another human being! I wanted that family and instead it sounds like I'm getting Wednesdays after school and every other weekend. I don't want that. And I thought that I'd ask you on the off chance that you don't want that either. Guess I shouldn't have even said anything. You've got what _you _wanted." He stared off to the side, not wanting to look her in the eye. Her expression had changed to something like pity. "You shouldn't be here," he said. "Timmy might find out and then you'd really have problems."

"Wait; Tony, I—" He closed the door on her.

********************************

Tony sulked in his apartment for awhile. It probably had been a bad idea to act on his stupid fantasies.

"Probably, DiNozzo?" he said to himself. "That has got to be the stupidest thing anyone has done since…" He couldn't think of anything to end that sentence with.

It had started when he had found out that Ziva was having a boy. All of a sudden he had started seeing himself showing the kid how to play basketball, picking him up and putting him on his shoulders to let him put the ball through the hoop. And, when he was older, teaching him how to drive and pick up girls. Someone he could be a role model for. But now, thinking about it, he had to go back to the thought that had made him want to deny that he even had a kid; he would make a horrible father.

What was he going to do? If the boy confided in him that he liked a girl in elementary school, he would ask if she was blond, brunette or redhead and then tell him to find a blond girl who already had all her teeth grown in; those were the babes in third grade. Once he got to high school, he would tell him to forget about his actual education and just focus on sports and girls. Until he got a sports injury and had to start actually learning things and the girls got to the age where they wised up about guys like him and realized that they weren't relationship material and so stayed away from him. And his son would hate him for turning him into a mini-Tony. And then McGee would be there, with his chess club and computer geek skills, which would handicap him socially, but at least he might have a future. Tony had to admit that at his age, even he was tired of being himself.

Which was why he had proposed to Ziva. He had thought that maybe if they were a real family and he had a real wife and baby and little house with a yard and a painted mailbox, he could change, be a better father. But he knew he was just fooling himself. Being married to Ziva wasn't going to change anything. And it wasn't what was best for the kid. The kid should have a real father and a real family, that much he knew. But it shouldn't be him.

He only hoped he hadn't screwed it up for Ziva and McGee. Should he do something? What could he possibly do that wouldn't make it worse?

Maybe he could talk to McGee, let him know what was going on. And then promise to stay out of their lives forever. After this, surely Ziva would stop bugging him about seeing the ultrasounds and all that. He dialed McGee's phone number.

"Please—dear God; _please_ tell me she is not with you," was the first thing out of McGee's mouth.

"She's not with me," Tony said. "She gave me the bitchslapping of the century and then left."

"You better not have—hey, don't call her that!" McGee seemed unsure what he should be most angry about. "She just left, you said?"

"Yeah, maybe fifteen minutes ago. Why?"

"I left the room for a few minutes; when I got back there was a missed call from Georgetown Hospital." Both men were thinking the same thing.

"I'll start hacking into their admission records," McGee said.

"Or, to take a more legal approach," Tony said. "We could just go up there and ask. If we show our badges, I think they'll tell us. I'm not far from Georgetown; I'll go start asking and you call when you get there." He heard the beeping of call waiting and glanced at his phone. The caller ID was the hospital. "Hold on, McGee; someone's calling me from there. I'll call you back when I know something." He switched over to the other call. "Hello?"

"Tony?" It was Ziva's voice; she sounded scared.

"Yeah, yeah; it's me, Ziva. What's wrong?"

"I—I'm at Georgetown. After I left your apartment, I, uh, started having a little bit of bleeding, so I went straight there. It's not a lot, but they admitted me to be able to watch me and make sure I'm not in preterm labor." She sighed. "You don't have to come up here or anything; I was just—I wanted to talk to someone, and Tim wasn't answering his phone—"

"McGee's already on his way," Tony said. "I'll call him and tell him you're there."

**************************

McGee had never felt so guilty in his life. He had done this to the woman that—he was sure of it now and he could say it—loved. He had flipped out and left her and upset her so much that she might lose the baby and it was all his fault. Not that he was going to apologize for getting angry about her sleeping with Tony. He just should have said something at the time and not just blasted her with fury all at once.

At least she hadn't gone back to Tony. He felt bad for thinking it, but he was thinking it a lot on his drive to the hospital. Was Tony there with her? He couldn't help but feel glad that she had slapped him.

When he got up to the obstetrics unit, he was directed to the triage and observation area. It was another hallway off the main unit where they sent women who were coming in possibly in labor and with other obstetric problems; it was like a tiny ER. Ziva was at the end; she was alone when he went in.

"Hey, Ziva," he said, softly, standing in the doorway.

"Hi, Tim," she said.

"How are you doing?"

"I've stopped bleeding and there was just a little bit of cramping so they don't think it's really any problem—" He rushed to her and put his arms around her.

"I'm so sorry, Ziva," he said. "I didn't mean to get so angry—I shouldn't have. I mean, I'm not sorry that I got angry, but I should've—"

"I'm the one who's sorry, Tim," she said. "I never should have done that and I never will again." She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. "It wasn't your fault, Tim. Don't apologize just because you feel responsible; I'm not trying to manipulate you."

"I know you're not. But I thought this kind of thing happened when you were upset or something and I upset you."

"Tim, we have to stop arguing over who did what and whose fault it was. We're both sorry. Maybe we can stop fighting, yes?"

"Of course. And I would have said it even if you weren't here. I came to my senses about the time I turned on the TV in the hotel room and I heard your voice in my head telling me what a slob I am for watching it. When do you think they'll let you out of here?"

"Shouldn't be too much longer." She looked up at him. "I called Tony; he might come up here. If he does, do you mind if I talk to him alone?"

"About him proposing to you?"

"Yes." She glanced off to the side. "You were right, Tim. I was…trying to find a balance between our relationship and Tony's being the baby's father. I guess I did it wrong. And maybe I did encourage him a little, trying to get him to come to the ultrasound and things like that. But I thought that if we didn't figure it out now, it would just be too complicated when he got older, especially if we didn't tell him that Tony was his father. Maybe it's supposed to be. I mean, how could something like this possibly go smoothly?" She paused. "He told me that he wanted a real family; I guess like something out of his movies. I don't know; maybe that's what I wanted, too."

"We will," McGee said, with unexpected fervor. "We'll have a family. Yeah, it'll be weird and screwed up, but all of them are. Who knows; maybe this will work out better than most of the traditional ones." Ziva smiled.

"So you're ok with this?" she asked.

"Yeah," McGee said. "Can I at least wait out in the hall?" he added, after a second.

"Sure."

Ziva called Tony and he came to the hospital; McGee stood outside while they talked. When Tony came out, he didn't say a word to McGee, just gave him a look that seemed somewhere between sadness and resignation. He went back in the room; Ziva had her arms crossed and had a similar expression.

"We're back to where we were before," she said. "He doesn't want anything to do with the baby and he says that he's realized that it was all a stupid fantasy and you would be a better father than he would ever be." An embarrassing little thought appeared in McGee's mind that he was probably right. "He even said that, if you're ok with it, he wants you to be his legal father."

"Well," he said, sitting on the bed and taking her hand. "Maybe—"

"Please don't say this is for the best," Ziva said. "Because I really don't think it is. He'll figure it out someday and how would you like to be a child who found out that no one ever told him who his real father was because he didn't want to be his father?" She shook her head. "At the very least, we have to tell him that Tony is his biological father. I refuse to spend my life lying to my son."

"Ok, ok; we'll tell him." He tried to look hopeful. "We'll figure this out. I promise you."


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Complicated

Author: purplejello1786

Rating: T

Spoilers: None

Pairings: McGiva mostly; some Tiva

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the characters. If I did, I would have vast amounts of money, would buy a small tract of land in the Antarctic Peninsula and could pet the penguins whenever I wanted

Chapter Eight

After leaving the obstetric ward, Tony didn't know what to do with himself. He could go home, of course, but he didn't really feel like it. Wandering around would make people stare at him. And his usual coping method, alcohol and women, were out of the question right now.

He ended up sitting on a bench outside the hospital. It was cold and he didn't have a heavy coat with him, but he couldn't seem to care. People passed him and stared at him like he might be crazy or homeless or both. It was kind of how he felt.

He hadn't asked Ziva to marry him again. He had just stood there looking at her, until she had said, "You don't love me, Tony." He hadn't really given it much thought. "You don't and you never will."

"No," he had finally said.

"So we shouldn't get married," she had said. "If we don't love each other and we would be miserable together then what kind of family would that make for our child?"

"Not good." He had known this. Deep down, he had known all this. He just didn't want it to be true.

"Tony, I had the same thoughts that you are having when I was trying to decide whether or not to keep the baby. And I agree with you that this is not the best situation we could have."

"Then why have the baby? I was trying to spare us both all these problems when I told you it would be better just to abort."

"This could very well be my only chance, Tony," she had said. "I couldn't have a child while I was working with Mossad. And considering my job and its usual life expectancy, I don't know if I will ever be able to again. The circumstances may not be ideal, but if they are all I get, I want to make the best of them."

"With McGee?"

"I love Tim," she had said. And he could see it in the warm glow on her face like there was a fire there beside her. "We are very, very happy. He's just wonderful and I wish I had seen it earlier."

"You wish it had been his."

"Sometimes. But what I mean is that I can't imagine a better way for a child to grow up than surrounded by love. And if we can't give him that, we can't be together and I can't marry you."

"I know," Tony had said. "It was stupid of me to ask you in the first place. And don't worry; I won't try anything else. I'll stay out of it." After years of pretending, it had been more than a little difficult for him to be honest with her. "McGee will do this a hundred times better than I ever could. Maybe you knew with your weird woman intuition thing and that's why you started going out." The words had almost choked him to say. "I wish I was more like him. But I'm not and probably won't ever be. I screwed this up, Ziva and I really do want what's best for the kid. But I'm not a good judge of that, apparently."

"It's partly my fault, Tony. I'm not sure what to do about this either. I don't want to keep you out of his life. But for his sake I can't be with you either. So all I can offer you is what you didn't want. Maybe more than every other weekend—"

"Just forget it, Ziva," Tony had said. "I don't want the kid to turn out like me any more than you do."

"Tony, it's not that—"

"McGee might ruin his life while he's in school, with Chess Club and Future MIT Geeks or whatever, but in the end, it would be better for him to end up like him." He hadn't been able to believe that he was saying this. "I'm sorry I ever asked you, Ziva. It's better the way it was before. Let McGee be his father. You can even name him McGee if you want. Might be easier if you guys are going to be long-term and maybe have more kids." Ziva had still been looking at him, like she wanted to say something, but didn't know what. "Hope you feel better. Are we done talking?" he had asked.

"I guess," Ziva had said.

"So I can go?"

"If you want."

"Ok. Bye."

Tony guessed that he should be grateful; he'd learned the moral of the story, which was caring more about your offspring than you did yourself and doing what was best for them even when it hurt. He wondered how it seemed so much easier when he was watching someone else doing just that in movies. For him, it completely sucked. Having to face the fact that, as cool as he had always thought he was, he wasn't good enough to be a father to his son. He regretted every word, every action, every minute that had led him to this point. Maybe it was just that it was with Ziva. Sure; if he was with someone he really cared about…he couldn't blame Ziva for this. It wasn't her fault. And maybe it _would_ be different when he was in a relationship with someone he really loved; they could have a family that he didn't have to try to force into being. But he would never stop wanting that kid and wishing it had been different.

Would things ever work out the way they did in movies? For the first time, Tony considered why he thought they should. Because he wanted it to. If it had been a movie, Ziva should come out of the building sometime around then with tears in her eyes and tell him that she had been wrong and she loved him and he would suddenly realize that he loved her and they would hold each other while soft chick flick music played. Since she wasn't, obviously the world didn't exist to bend to his will and cater to his every whim. It sucked and was going to keep sucking because real life didn't care what he wanted. Tony started to feel very, very small.


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Complicated

Author: purplejello1786

Rating: T

Spoilers: None

Pairings: McGiva mostly; some Tiva

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the characters. If I did, I would have vast amounts of money, would buy a small tract of land in the Antarctic Peninsula and could pet the penguins whenever I wanted

Chapter Nine

Day after day passed; work was the same as always. Ziva was so busy preparing for childbirth and caring for the baby that she had forgotten to be angry about being more or less restricted to desk work. Gibbs still let her go with them to scenes, but she had to keep out of anything that was dangerous or exciting. There had been a few scenes that Gibbs had judged to be too risky for her to go to. One look in his eyes told her it was non-negotiable. So she concerned herself with what she would have to do to take care of the baby. She had already read about every book ever written on the subject.

About two weeks before her due date, she and McGee came into the bullpen Monday morning with a certain amount of tension between them.

"How was childbirth class?" Tony asked, with a grin. McGee had heard about a one-day class that weekend that they had decided to attend. "Have fun, McGee?"

"We learned a very important lesson," he said, in a controlled tone.

"Another one?" Tony said. "What was it this time?"

"Apparently it is considered inappropriate to carry weapons into a childbirth class," Ziva said.

"Yes, and I think they'll be sure to put that on their flyer next time," McGee said, giving Ziva a look. Tony looked very interested.

"And how did we find out about this little bit of fine print?" he asked.

"Ziva, would you like to explain how we came to be thrown out of a _childbirth class_ for appearing 'threatening' and frightening other parents-to-be?" McGee said. Obviously, this had been a point of contention all weekend.

"It wasn't my fault," she said. "Well, not entirely."

"If you had just kept your mouth shut and listened quietly, we wouldn't have had any problems."

"The whole thing was ridiculous! It was entirely one-sided and there was no way for anyone to make a case for other views."

"What was going on?" Tony asked. Ziva looked pained.

"There was this yuppie woman up there trying to convince us not to get epidurals," she said.

"She means hippy," McGee said.

"Her hips looked fine to me," Ziva said. McGee rolled his eyes and didn't bother to say anything else. "But she was going on and on about how pain relief is unnatural and a woman's body can compensate for the pain with endorphins released by breathing—total crap!"

"Speaking from your vast experience as a birthing vessel I'm sure your opinion meant a lot," Tony said. "What did you do, go up to the front and tell her that?"

"Oh, she did better than that," McGee said. "She gave a speech to the whole class. Told everyone about the time she was shot in the leg."

"Mossad never suggested that I use breathing to cope with that," Ziva said. "Morphine; now _that_ was helpful. Of course it doesn't completely stop the pain; just takes the edge off of it so you can stop screaming and threatening to cut open your partner's jugular if he doesn't do something to help you—"

"Just think what you have to look forward to, McGee," Tony said.

"I can't imagine how much worse it would hurt to have an eight-pound human being squeezing its way out of the most sensitive area of your body for hours and hours; it's almost like an impaling in reverse; you know how back in the Middle Ages they used to kill people by putting stakes through their—"

"Ziva!" McGee said. "There were people _crying_ after you talked about that!"

"You've seen me; pregnant women cry about nothing."

"The men were crying, Ziva." Tony was trying not to laugh.

"No wonder they threw you out," he said.

"Oh, no. They actually let us stay, although they moved us to the back. Then after lunch—which hardly anyone could eat after you talking about impaling—we got into 'Surgical Interventions During Childbirth'."

"I was making a perfectly valid point; I'm surprised that no one else brought it up. And I raised my hand and everything."

"She asked the hippy woman why she thought it was ok to have an epidural for a C-section but not for regular childbirth."

"If you're going to go without pain relief, you'd think it would be easier; it's faster. They just cut you open, pull out the baby and you're done. Fifteen minutes. I tried to point this out with those models that they had—" McGee put his head in his hands. "They were completely inaccurate; the belly didn't even have a uterus and there was no model baby in there."

"Why did you think there would be?"

"I assumed it was for showing us the C-section process. I had no idea they were going to get so mad about it—"

"You did not have to demonstrate by pulling out your knife and cutting open a rubber model of a pregnant woman's belly. Which we now owe them for."

"They really should have their models better labeled. Shut up, Tony!" Tony was at that moment bent over almost crying with laughter.

"So they finally kicked you out after that?" he managed to say through laughing.

"I'm just grateful that they didn't press any charges," McGee said with a groan. "I think they felt sorry for us and we were referred to a therapy group called Violence Isn't the Answer."

"I still maintain it should be Violence Isn't _Always_ the Answer," Ziva said. "You don't want to get out of control, but there are times when people's necks just need to be broken." McGee buried his face in his hands again and Tony was doubled over unable to breathe. "You two are cretins."

"Just don't break their necks, Ziva," Gibbs said, coming as always. "They've got too much work to do; I can't afford for them to be dead. By the way, I'm with you; I think natural childbirth is cruel and unusual self-punishment but don't use weapons to try and convince anyone. I'm having enough problems convincing everyone that DiNozzo is still psychologically sound after that little incident with the gorilla."

"I was drunk," Tony growled.

"And as for you, McGee…" He leaned over and spoke softly to him. "Just pay them the money. She'll forget all about this when you have the baby."

"Right, Gibbs." He turned back to the computer and pretended to work. He knew he was dealing with it pretty well under the circumstances. Ziva came over to him, put her arm around his shoulders and leaned on him.

"I'm sorry, Tim," she said. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. And I've stopped taking my knife in public places now."

"That I'm glad of." He put his arm around her. "It's ok; I know you were just being you and I love you. We're just figuring things out." He smiled at her. "Although, after that class, I was wondering if you had thought about—"

"I'm still going to breastfeed and you're not going to convince me not to." McGee tried not to look upset about this.

"Well, Ziva; it's not like bottle-feeding is that much more expensive and it'll be so much easier at work—"

"Why does this bother you, Tim?"

"The same reason it has bothered men through the ages," Tony said, eavesdropping. "Unless you have twins, when a couple has a baby, they are not longer a couple but a sort of—'thruple'. This means that all members of this 'thruple' must learn to share each other with the others and there are some things—" He grinned at McGee. "That men just don't want to share."

"Tony, go away!" McGee snapped. "It is not like that! I'm just concerned for her well-being!" Gibbs, thankfully, had left to talk to Abby.

"Really, Tim, because you're acting a little jealous; you think maybe you could be feeling betrayed by my breasts? Knowing that there's going to be someone else." Ziva asked with a playful smile.

"Don't you start too, Ziva," McGee said. "All I'm saying is that I feel a little uncomfortable about you breastfeeding."

"I noticed," Ziva said. "You've been pretending that they don't exist."

"It does make things awkward, doesn't it?" Tony was still there.

"Tony, go away!" they both said.

"No, I'm speaking from experience here. I once hooked up with this girl who was lactating and didn't tell me. It moves 'uncomfortable' to a whole new level when you're in the middle of foreplay and you're suddenly reminded of your fourth grade trip to a dairy farm—"

"Dear God; I cannot listen to this." McGee got up and left, his face bright red. Ziva was somewhere between embarrassed and amused.

"Glad you can sympathize, Tony," she said. "I even understand why it bothers him, but that's the way they do it in Israel and I think it would be the best thing for the baby."

"Yeah, I know. Good for you." He smiled and gave her a meaningful look.

"Tim's probably getting sick in the men's room; I should go bring him some water. Be nice when he gets back."

"Sure." Tony went to play Tetris to try to distract himself from everything that had happened. Not that he was jealous of McGee by any stretch of the imagination—the stories from the childbirth class were making him thank God that he wasn't involved in this—but some wounds were slow to heal and playing stupid video games was easier than actually dealing with his feelings. He was almost to a high score when Gibbs came back.

************************

That weekend, when Ziva woke up from an afternoon nap to find that McGee had packed them a picnic dinner and asked her if she wanted to come somewhere with him; he wouldn't tell her where. Suspicious, but liking the idea, Ziva went with him.

They drove to a street in DC that she didn't recognize and parked on the street. There was a long line of businesses in nice buildings surrounded by trees and bushes and there was a fountain in the middle of the court in front of the buildings. It didn't look like anywhere Ziva had been before.

"Where are we?" she asked. "I don't recognize this place." McGee had sat down with the picnic basket on the side of the fountain pool and opened it.

"You don't remember?" he asked.

"Should I?"

"C'mere." He had her stand right in front of the fountain, looking at the bank in front of it. He stood beside her. "Now picture we are being pushed into this pool by a greedy Marine trying to steal a map to a nineteenth-century weapons cache." Ziva's eyes widened with recognition.

"This is the bank where we went to look at that Staff Sergeant's safety deposit box," Ziva said. "It's the first case we worked on together."

"First assignment with just us." Ziva smiled and sat down by the fountain with him.

"Good idea, Tim. I couldn't even remember where this was."

"Oh, I'll always remember this place. First time I got to see you soaking wet in a tank top." He laughed and Ziva tried to look annoyed but couldn't manage it. "Look, I remembered your favorite ice cream."

***************************

After they had eaten their sandwiches, then salt and vinegar potato chips and chocolate-covered banana ice cream (McGee ate them separately, Ziva together), she sighed and leaned against him. The sun was starting to set and had cast a pink glow on everything.

"This is beautiful," she said. "Thank you so much." McGee's heart started to beat just a little faster.

"Hey, while we're here, I, uh, wanted to ask you something," he said.

"What's that?" His mouth had gone dry. Bone dry in about two seconds. He couldn't get a word out for a minute and had to take a long drink of soda.

"Well, I wanted to know if you—you know, if you wanted to—if you would—"

"Are you ok, Tim?"

"Yeah, fine." He took another drink of soda. "Ziva, I wanted to know if you—"

"If I what?"

"If you—" He completely chickened out. "If you wanted to buy a house with me. 'Cause, you know, according to all the real estate people that I know it's a good time, market projections being what they are and interest levels are at their lowest in years and as the baby gets older it would be good for him to have a yard to play in and maybe I could even build him a treehouse or something and I think it would be great." He got through all this in about ten seconds. Ziva was staring at him like he was crazy.

"I think that's a great idea," she said. "We'll need to have a house when he gets older. But maybe not right now; we've already got his room decorated in the apartment."

"Right. Of course. I just wanted to know what you thought about it so we could think about looking for things, maybe." He couldn't believe he was such a coward. A ring. He should have gotten a ring first. Then he _couldn't_ chicken out.

"That sounds great; I would love to do that. And, uh, Tim, when you're ready, I am receptive to any other changes that you might want to suggest." She smiled.

"Right. When I'm ready." He had been ready when they left their apartment. What was wrong with now? "Ziva, will you—" Ziva was leaning over, holding her belly and gritting her teeth in pain. It seemed to last forever.

"That hurt," she said hoarsely, when she finally relaxed. "That _really_ hurt."

"Worse than the ones they said were false labor?"

"That was like nothing I've ever felt before," she said. Then she smiled. "I was right; this will be worse than getting shot in the leg." McGee couldn't believe how much he loved her right then, probably in labor, smiling about the fact that labor was worse than a gunshot wound because it proved her point.

"Think this is the real thing?" he asked. "If so, we should probably get you to the hospital—you know, so you can get your epidural before you start wanting to kill people?"

"Wait a few minutes," she said. "We'll see how long between them." Seven minutes later, she had another contraction that lasted almost thirty seconds. "Ok, let's go."

"Let's go." McGee couldn't remember where they were going until they got to the car and she had to remind him. "Are you going to—"

"Yes," Ziva said, already dialing. "I'll let it be his decision." And they drove off towards Georgetown.

***********************************

Tony was in the middle of a basketball game with his friends; they were winning and there were only six minutes left on the game. Still somehow he knew what the call was about. He rushed off the court, answered the phone, hung up without a word then ran off towards his car.


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Complicated

Author: purplejello1786

Rating: T

Spoilers: None

Pairings: McGiva mostly; some Tiva

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the characters. If I did, I would have vast amounts of money, would buy a small tract of land in the Antarctic Peninsula and could pet the penguins whenever I wanted.

Chapter Ten

Tony finally got up to the obstetric ward at Georgetown about two hours after Ziva had called him. He had gotten there not long after they had, but had stood there staring at the entrance, holding up traffic, saying to himself over and over, "That's my son." A security guard had removed him and tried to tell him how to get to the unit, but Tony had gotten lost and ended up in Radiology fascinated by the MRI machine's magnet pulling at the chain he had around his neck. Accompanied by a nurse, he had finally gotten to the right place.

Ziva was lying on the bed, as curled up as her belly would let her be, with her face pressed into the pillow and her fingers gripping tightly to the blanket and McGee's hand. McGee was coping well with this and was sitting on the bed beside her, rubbing her back and whispering encouraging words in her ear. Tony waited until it looked like the contraction was over to speak.

"Hi, guys," he said, feeling kind of awkward. "How are things going?" Ziva lifted her head off the pillow, then looked at McGee and laid back down. "You ok?"

"Relatively speaking," McGee said. "It's just best for all involved if she doesn't talk right now. Why don't we go outside and—" He started to get up; Ziva tightened her grip and pulled him back down beside her. "Or we could talk in here. Her water broke about an hour ago and she's at four centimeters so it will probably be a while."

"Um—I've never done this before, so…what's at four centimeters?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself about," Ziva said, hoarsely, from the pillow. "But I'm at four out of ten."

"And when whatever gets to ten the baby will be born?"

"Then I start pushing and hopefully soon after that the baby will be born. If I understand everything correctly. It will be some hours, Tony."

"Wow," Tony said. "It's always a lot shorter in the movies." Ziva rolled her eyes, then pressed her face back into the pillow with a groan, then a whimper as the contraction continued. Tony couldn't believe how calm McGee was, trying to be soothing even when Ziva was probably causing permanent nerve damage. When it was finally over, Ziva lifted her head and rolled onto her back, breathing hard. Her face was wet from sweat or tears, Tony couldn't tell which.

"That was almost a minute," McGee said, still speaking softly. "You're doing great; you seem to be moving along really well."

"They're getting stronger too," Ziva said. She leaned her head against McGee's arm. "Tell me I don't have to do this for twenty-two hours like that woman we talked to in class."

"Well, however long it takes, we'll do whatever you need to make you feel better," McGee said.

"Yes," Ziva said. "Maybe now they'll let me have an epidural."

"Didn't they give you one before?" Tony asked.

"They said I could have one when I got to five. Boy Scout Doctor said it could slow down my progress and I needed to wait."

"And what did you say?" Tony asked.

"That was when we decided she needed to stop talking for awhile," McGee said. "I'm just glad you said all that in Hebrew instead of English or he probably would have run away crying. Tony, could you take over here and I'll go find the nurse?" Tony very hesitantly sat down beside Ziva and took her hand.

"I'll try not to squeeze too hard," Ziva said, when McGee had left.

"It's ok," Tony said. "It's my kid. It wouldn't be fair if only one of us had to suffer to bring him into this world."

"Thank you for coming," Ziva said. With that another contraction hit and Tony wondered how much a robotic hand would cost and whether insurance would pay for it, but he didn't make a sound.

McGee came in with a nurse, dragging behind her an insecure young man in a white coat who was undoubtedly Boy Scout Doctor. The nurse pushed Tony off the bed, rolled Ziva on to her back and without ceremony put her hand into a place that Tony had spent years trying to get in to.

"Good news; you've made it to five," she said. Ziva almost cried with relief.

"I'll, um, go page the anesthesiologist," Boy Scout Doctor said, moving anxiously towards the door. The nurse looked at Tony.

"I'm sorry, but our policy is to have only the immediate family in the room. Friends can sit out in the waiting room."

"I'm the father," Tony said, at the same time Ziva said, "He's the father." The nurse looked surprised.

"Oh, I'm—I'm sorry, I thought—" She looked at McGee. "I mean, when he said he was your fiancé—" Tony looked with fierce surprise at both of them; Ziva looked with surprise at McGee who was smiling sheepishly.

"Well, you were going to say 'yes', right?" he said.

"I was," Ziva said, a smile spreading over her face.

"Then, um, I guess both of you can stay. I'll come back in when the anesthesiologist gets here." She left. McGee and Ziva hadn't taken their eyes off of each other.

"Tim," Ziva said, and then he rushed over to her and held her. "I love you."

"I love you too," he said and stroked her hair. "So, you will marry me?"

"I can't wait to marry you." She pulled him close to her and kissed him. McGee was grinning when they broke apart.

"I'm sorry I don't have a ring or anything right now," he said. "But I wanted to know, now if you wanted to marry me because—" He looked up at Tony. "I thought that maybe I could adopt the kid or at least be his legal guardian, if we're going to be together and he's going to grow up with me taking care of him."

"Great," Tony said. "That's-that's great. Congratulations." He moved toward the door. "I'm happy for you and he can even call you 'Dad' if you want. Do you want some ice or anything?" Without waiting for Ziva to answer, he left the room. McGee followed him.

"Tony, wait," he said.

"I wouldn't leave Ziva alone if I were you," Tony said. "Go on in there—I'll go out to the waiting room with the rest of the friends."

"Dear God; would you stop feeling sorry for yourself for one second?" McGee said. Tony turned to face him. "So it didn't work out the way you always thought it would. It worked out. You have a son about to be born. Try thinking of him for a second."

"I am thinking of him," Tony snapped. "I'm staying out of his life so he won't end up as screwed up as I am."

"I cannot believe that I'm the one having to say this to you," McGee said. "But you are not screwed up. At least you're not anymore screwed up than anyone else. I want to adopt the kid because if I'm going to be one of his parents, I want to be able to do my job and I need legal rights to be able to do that. That's all, Tony; I'm doing this for his good. I'm not trying to take this away from you. I'm trying to make the best of a situation that seems to be as complicated as it gets. And you know, there will be days when I have no idea what's going on with him and you will be the only person in the world who will understand him because you are part of him. You will be his father. And so will I, I guess. That's not going to do any harm. So stop moping and just think about the fact that in a few hours there will be another human being on this planet and you helped make it." He turned to go back into Ziva's room, then stopped. "Oh, right. There was one more thing and I guess we should have talked to you about this earlier, but we only just decided. If you want to, we would like you to name him. We already have his middle name picked out, but we couldn't agree on a first and so we thought we would let you pick. So, think about it." He went back in.

Tony knew the name he would choose; it had popped into his head as soon as McGee had said it. The kid across the street that he had broken windows with and stolen dirty magazines with. His best friend, who he had never seen again after his father had dragged him off to Germany or someplace like that; Charlie Halbrecht. Charlie would be his son's name.

He did go and get Ziva some ice and thought about what McGee had said. And came to the conclusion that McGee would make a very good father. But he couldn't be expected to always be able to handle a DiNozzo. The kid did have his blood. And Tony could still be the cool dad, and McGee could enforce the rules. Not a bad team.

He went back into the room. "Charlie ok with you guys?" Ziva and McGee thought and then nodded.

"Charlie Hayden David," she said. "Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" To avoid even more complications, they had decided to give him Ziva's last name.

"I think so," Tony said. "Feeling better?"

"Thank God for epidurals," Ziva said. "It will still be some time, but at least I don't have to fight off the urge to kill someone now." McGee smiled at her with ice wrapped around his hand; Tony imagined that he was just as relieved as she was.

The whole thing took much longer and was _way_ grosser than anything Tony had ever seen in movies. He spent most of the pushing process being encouraging, but keeping his eyes locked on the wall across the room so he didn't have to see things coming out or where they were coming out of. He was afraid that if he did, he would never be able to have sex again. Then there was a rush of activity. Ziva slumped back into the bed, breathing wearily, from where she had been sitting up pushing. A nurse quickly wiped the baby off and placed him on Ziva's chest. She couldn't speak; tears of joy were running down her face. McGee was beaming in wonder at the head of the bed. And the baby—Charlie—was screaming his tiny head off. Ziva was so glad that it was all over and that she finally got to meet the person who had been keeping her awake at night kicking at her liver. He was the most precious, wonderful thing she had ever seen. McGee felt like an enormous burden had just been dropped onto his shoulders, and to his surprise, he felt like he could do it. He was looking forward to it, even. It was what he had always been meant to do. With one hand he touched Ziva's shoulder and with the other he touched the little face.

After a minute, the nurse slowly took him out of Ziva's arms, her eyes promising to bring him back quickly. Then Boy Scout Doctor, with shaking hands, placed clips on the umbilical cord and then held up a pair of scissors. Everyone looked at Tony. And he went over and, not even caring, cut through the cord. The nurse then placed the baby in his arms. Tony felt his world transform.

"Hi, Charlie," he said.

The End


End file.
